May 27, 2008

My mind is still on vacation, as it were, even though today I returned to truckloads of work to do.

With that in mind, I thought I would share something, which, for me, is quite a rarity – namely a celebrity sighting.

As I was walking toward the gate at Fort Myers – Sanibel Airport, I noticed a tall man walking in my direction. He was wearing a blue blazer, tan pants and dress shoes, which is no big deal. But, he was also wearing a close-fitting baseball cap. As we passed each other, it still hadn’t registered. Once he was a dozen paces past me, it came together. It was James Patterson, the gazillion selling author of the “Alex Cross” series and several other page turners.

I said to The Original Bill who was already seated at the gate, “Yo, I think I just walked past James Patterson.”

Bill looked at the people walking away from the direction of the gate and said, “I know who you mean. The blue blazer guy. James Patterson does live in Florida, you know.” (I didn’t know that, or, at least, I didn’t recall that.)

He looked, to me, like his photos on the back of each of his books (with the baseball cap), except he was a big guy. Yeah, I know. Stoopid, to gauge someone’s height and mass based upon a head shot on the back cover of a book.

That’s where this exciting story ends. I am not a person who would chase the guy down and say stuff like, “Yo! You’re James Patterson, right? I’m a big fan. blah, blah, blah, so I never got around until a couple days later even mentioning to Mrs. Parkway (also a Patterson fan) that I believed that I had seen the guy.

The only other airport celebrity sighting I can claim was the time I saw Al *spit* Sharpton at the San Francisco Airport waiting to board the flight to Newark. Unlike, James Patterson (at least, I think it was James Patterson), Sharpton was prancing around the gate area, obviously hoping to be noticed. I noticed him all right, but I wouldn’t piss on him if he were on fire.

Did I mention that the “Reverend” Al was flying first-class? I was flying coach, so I had to wait while the “Reverend” lumbered his fat ass on the plane. I couldn’t help but wonder who paid for his ticket.

That’s about it, except to note that I was a bit disappointed that James Patterson (at least, I think it was him) didn’t stop dead in his tracks and say, “Yo, are you Jimbo from Parkway Rest Stop? I’m a big fan blah, blah blah …”

Maybe next year.

Update: I just remembered that I was on a flight to Jacksonville with this guy and blogged about it here. He didn’t recognize me either, but I have better hair.

… I met and talked with Sam Elliot on a flight from Chattanooga to DFW….. he was quite nice…… flew coach, too…… in the end, after convincing me that he was a stunt double for Mr. Elliot, he got busted as they called his name over a the loud speaker…… he was just seconds away from buying me a beer at the bar at DFW…… ahhh, well….

…. I’d rather meet Sam Elliot incognito than Al Sharpton when he is flag-waving…… you have my sympathies…..

I’ve seen some celebs in airports. Jerry Lewis rolled by on a cart one time, looking quite dour. Charlton Heston floated by Moses-like on another cart. Senator Paul Simon was sitting forlornly at a waiting area at Washington National with his chin on his hand. Rudy Tomjanovich, the basketball coach, bumped into me in a Houston Airport gift shop; when he saw that I recognized him, he pretty much ran.

I sat next to Dolf Lungren once on a flight from ATL to LA. First class… I’d upgraded a business flight. Best part of the flight? They were showing Cool Runnings (fun flick) and I had a GREAT ice cream sundae. He was full of himself, or so he seemed… maybe just introverted. We didn’t speak much, although he was funny when we got our meals and we both looked at each other and he said, “What’s this?” and I replied, “I have no clue… but I’m not eating it…”

Anyway, Mr. Patterson lives on Palm Beach. I went to an event last year where they had a basket of his books, all signed by him. Nobody was bidding on them… I was astounded. So I bid on them all… I think 15 books, all signed by Mr. P himself… and got them for $100, I think. They sit in my guest room for my guests to read should they like (I read them immedately)…but they may not take. They are all signed afterall… 🙂

Paula Abdul was on a Southwest flight to Indy that I was on. She was flying in for the Indy 500. She’s teensy-tiny. When she sat in the seat you couldn’t see any part of her from further back. This was after the first few seasons of American Idol. I wondered, geez, who’s her secretary to book her a flight on Southwest?

Last celebs I saw on a plane were Hanson, the band that was so popular amongst the kiddies back in the late 1990’s…had a lengthy conversation with Isaac, the eldest…before that, it was Bob Hope, who used to stroll around the Palm Springs airport back in the early 1990’s…said hello and gave him a hearty handshake…it was pretty clear that by that time, the wheel was turning but the hamster was dead, if you know what I mean…

…surprised Patterson did not recognize the famous Online Journalist from Northern Joisey…great farookin’ hair and all…

Living in the big city, as I do, I have encountered a cross-section of celebrities in my time (thanks, in part, to an ex-celebrity hound boyfriend) who have run the gamut from awesome to nauseating. A short sample:

Unless it’s someone I really like (Mr. Rogers, Dan Aykroyd), the whole experience of celebrity sighting is wholly unfulfilling, although, even though you’re what I would call C-List Celebrity, being friends with the president of the Hair Club for Men is still such a thrill for me.

I’ve HAD it with these muthahfarookin’ celebrities on these muthahfarookin’ planes!

Back in the 70s Bob Dylan walked past me toward the loo in the back of a flight to London. I guess the loo in the First Class cabin was full and Bob really had to pee bad. Hi Bob! Nice shades, ya demented leftist hippie.

Never did meet him but used to see the “possum” George Jones around some when I lived in Lakeland Florida. one of them big capitalist cars with a custom license plate what said possum on it drove aropund there some too..don’t know if it belonged to Jones or not but figured it did.

I reckon the only real celebrities I have ever met was some famous bloggers..one from New Joisey and one crippled one from Brooklyn, and one from Atlanta, and I got a chance to meet the acidman..and of course the famous world traveler from Atlanta and the catfish..hell, man, that is a lot of celbrities right there!